I’m sure you all know by now that my confidence isn’t exactly sky high so to keep on the subject and maybe explain myself a little bit I’ve decided to tell you a story.

When I was a teenager, and continuously, I had suffered from depression. Being in Highschool where you unfortunately hear about your friends sexual endeavors I started feeling extremely depressed, lacking in confidence and unwanted. After my Junior year there was a plan set by my Mom to move back to our old house in town.

Upon learning that I developed a mindset of jealousy and decided then when going to this new school and having no one to talk to I atleast wanted someone I knew I could turn to.

I proceeded to download MyYearbook, now known as MeetMe. At 17 I started talking to a 27 year old man that we’ll call “Tom.” Tom and I talked for the entire summer and he expressed interest in me that I wasn’t used to even though I knew I wasn’t entirely interested in him in that way. Being totally inexperienced in any kind of “romantic” relationship I instead came up with the worst motto in History.

I definetly won’t be with anyone else so I myswell take what I can get.

Absolutely terrible.

Anyways, after school started he and I started talking about meeting. We both knew that we were only about 10 minutes, walking distance, away from one another so I explained that it would have to be after school and I needed to be back before 5:00pm. He agreed.

A month or two into the school year we met for the first time and it immediately was off to an uncomfortable start. The very first thing he initiated was sex and being innocent in this subject and having the motto that I had, “no” really didn’t come easily. Including when it came to him coming to my house with no intentions on my part to do anything sexual.

For reasons that I really can’t validate even 6 years later, this “relationship” continued although red flags weren’t scarce. First red flag being that he was violent. I never left with any bruises but I can recall multiple times when I was unable to breathe and verbally and physically expressed that I was in pain.

Even then it continued until he requested one last thing, which I will not mention here because of disgust, to which I promptly and loudly denied.

I spent a lot of time trying to figure out why exactly he was attracted to me and didn’t figure it out until about a month later when I received a text from him claiming to be a friend of his, requesting pictures of any of my “pregnant friends.”

So yeah, I’ll be honest. I’m a bit overweight. Apparently that was close enough for him and his “fetish.” Red. Flag.

I, of course, told him no then attempted to message him the next day explaining the situation to which he played off in a joking manner saying, “Ya, he’s like that. Ha ha.”

Now I can’t say I was positive at that point that he was pretending to be other people until his “friend” texted a few more times requesting the same thing then receiving a message on Facebook from a girl I had never heard of saying that she saw us together and would call the cops.

That of course scared the shit out of me because at the time my Mom worked at the Court House and knew every cop in the area. Scared or not I decided to do some research. I looked at her page which had zero pictures of her, zero posts but she was friends with over 200 people including some of my friends, all of which either were pregnant or had kids.

I ignored the texts I got from “Tom” and messaged some of my friends asking if they knew who she was. They all said no and that they had just gotten a request from her and accepted it.

I decided at this point to message Tom and not only explain the situation but also to call him out for trying to fuck with me because not only were these 2 situations highly unlikely but the main thing I noticed was that Tom, his “friend” and this girl all typed EXACTLY the same. Right down to the punctuation and spelling of different words.

That was when I told him that I was done speaking to him and that he needed to erase my number and forget me NOW.

For atleast 2 months afterwards he continued to text me pretending to be other people, begging for forgiveness and even went as far as to write my phone number in a local stores mens bathroom.

I finally convinced my Mom to let me change my number, explaining that apparently someone from school had gotten my number and wrote it in the bathroom which was causing me to be harassed.

Unfortunately I had somewhat forgotten that he knew were I lived and I had faith that he wouldn’t go as far as to show up at my house.

As I’m sure you suspect, I was wrong to put faith in Tom because one night when my Mom picked me up from work she handed me an unsealed letter in an envelope that was just marked “To Emily.” Then explained that she found it laying on the front porch.

I ignored the letter and spent the entire drive home trying to talk about anything except for that.

Once we got there I called a friend of mine that lived down the block, whom I had shared this ordeal with earlier in the year, and asked her to come up and read the letter because I couldnt. Once she got to my house she read the letter and reassured me that if my Mom had read it there wasn’t anything incriminating in there. I gave it a once over and immediately was pissed because this guy refused to take no as an answer.

He had written his number on the bottom so my friend and I called him and explained that I was done, he was harassing me and that I was .5 seconds away from calling the police on him. We then hung up before he could respond and waited.

He never sent a text, letter or called me again and I didnt see him for about 3 years until he casually came into the gas station where I was working at the time. Which was the most terrifying moment I had experienced in quite awhile but fortunately that was the last time I saw him.

That was my story. If you ever fear that you are in an abusive, stalking or uncomfortable position like this, don’t be like me and handle it yourself. Talk to someone, call the police if you need to. People will help you.

Main photo from LitHubwhich includes a book review of Caroline Kepnes books which touch on “Love VS. Stalking.”

I’m gonna share another bad habit that I have. That habit is using “pessimistic silver linings” to try and make myself feel better.

I actually thought of one earlier so I’ll use that as an example. My new job is about 40 minutes away from my house. The last job I had is half way between my Mom’s house and my Grandma’s house. I drive past it to get groceries, to visit with family and now to get to my new job.

My thought on this is, I tend to drag negative feelings out of locations that I have negative emotions/experiences from. Okay that parts common. The uncommon part of my thoughts are the ones that attach themselves to my future as well. Such as,

The good thing is, if I ever lose or leave my current job atleast I won’t have to see it everyday being that it’s so far out of the way.

That’s true and all BUT why the hell am I focusing on “if I lose this job.” Why is that important when I haven’t even officially started it yet.

Honestly, I tend to do this alot and it seems like my brain is kindof wired to think like that. Call it thinking ahead or preparing for the future but all I see is negativity and in the most childish way I can explain my feelings towards it…it really sucks.

Another example of this that comes to mind is,

Everything would be better if I were gone.

Not true. Not in the slightest. Do you see what I mean though?

It’s a negative thought attempting to camouflage itself with a few meaningless positive words.

I, like most people, have self esteem issues. If anyone were willing to listen I could probably draw up a PowerPoint about all my flaws.

One of my goals for this year is to recognize beauty in myself regardless of my mood. This has been a struggle for me for years. One day I feel grotesque, the next I think, well, I’m not bad. The thing that I don’t realize when I have these thoughts is that I look the same as I did when I thought I was grotesque so, what the hell?

The event that brought this post on would be the last 2 hours that I took to prepare for an interview today. I straightened my hair, curled my hair, put on clothes, changed said clothes. Put on makeup, messed up said makeup because I’m in no way a beauty guru, wiped off the makeup. It was a never ending cycle.

I know for a fact that I’m not the only woman that looks in the mirror and sighs.

“I wish I was thinner.”

“I wish my hair was different.”

“God, I hate acne.” (Okay, this one I totally get considering my continuous face demons.)

I think regardless of these thoughts every woman should be able to look at themselves and smile.

You shouldn’t have to waste an entire morning trying to get your hair to cooperate. You shouldn’t have to cake on makeup to cover your eye bags.

Yes, I understand it’s not flattering but you’re not the only one with these “flaws.” You shouldn’t think badly about yourself while holding a microscope up to all the things that you think aren’t attractive because believe it or not, they are.

Your eye bags show that you work hard, that’s attractive.

Your scars show that you’ve had experiences, that’s attractive.

Your crooked teeth are cute. Your crazy curls are beautiful, the list could really go on and on.

Basically, try to take this advice from me and tell yourself you’re beautiful. Say it however many times you need. Scream it, cry it. Do what you need to do until you believe it.

Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) is an anxiety disorder that causes a person to have a distorted view of how they look and to spend a lot of time worrying about their appearance. For example, they may be convinced that a barely visible scar is a major flaw that everyone is staring at, or that their nose looks abnormal.

This is a condition that affects about 1 in 50 people. The Prevalence of BDD is somewhat small, but is still a very devastating condition to live with. It can go one of two ways, either someone can perceive a small flaw as massive or their entire body as grotesque or unnatractive. Not only this but Body dismorphia can lead to social anxiety or simply just staying out of the public eye completely.

Now, I can go back to when I was in school and somewhat relate to this post. I was the girl in school that constantly wore hoodies or oversized t-shirts and jeans or sweat pants to cover up her body. Although back then I wasn’t as big as I felt I would still go every possible mile to disguise my body from everyone.

I’m sure that this is a common problem among teenagers in highschool especially considering the ridicule that they get. I know that I received alot of grief from family and other students even though at the time I was more than 50 lbs lighter. All I remember is that I felt the same about my body then as I do now.

Although I can not relate to this post as much as I would like to while offering help to anyone with this disorder I would like to say that every single one of the people I have met in my life has struggled with some kind of physical flaw. Most of the time these flaws were only seen by the person raising the complaints. Even though I completely understand that you’re the one that sees yourself everyday don’t forget that a stranger, regardless of admittance, can find beauty in almost everything.

Don’t ever be deterred by what you see because someone else might view you as a diamond among a sea of stones.

This post, while being written by someone who has very low self esteem, is not written by someone with diagnosed BDD.

The first wave is decently calm, only slightly pushing the sand up the shore.

The second wave gets a little more intense, disrupting the life underneith, digging holes in the sides of the rocks that dress the shore.

The third wave, now thats where things get intense. The third wave will crash so hard that what was once a shore will become a desolate waste land. Littered with debris and the life that once thrived there. Now, the third wave doesn’t come often and honestly, when it does the only thing that is truly affected is the first wave.

Over time the first wave will become smaller, less noticable. You will barely see it up close and you will never see it from afar. Soon, all that will be left is disruption and desolation.